


light of my eyes

by Arianne



Series: Kinktober 2019 [13]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Established Relationship, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Pegging, Pre-Canon, Pregnancy Kink, Service Top, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-07 20:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20982056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianne/pseuds/Arianne
Summary: “Are you ready for my cock, Legatus?”





	light of my eyes

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: pegging
> 
> _You came, Telemachus, light of my eyes_, Hom. Od. 16.23

“Are you ready for my cock, Legatus?” Regula asks, and though Varis’ now-habitual use of his throat has made low and rough his voice, it is the title which makes Varis suck in breath. Only weeks since the legion had been bestowed upon him in name as well as practice, he is not yet accustomed to it, even with Regula calling him such that same night and each night since with such fondness in his voice it may well be Varis’ own name. Regula favors the sound of it to _sir_ when he invokes it in their bed, most often murmured into Varis’ shoulder or his mouth; when he addresses Varis by his new proper title with others present, he sounds only proud.

The same pride rises within Varis now to look over his shoulder, Regula steadying the heavy ornamental glass at its base in the one hand, and the swell of Varis’ child in the other.

“Always for you,” Varis says, and lets his head fall between his shoulders, his hair spilling onto the sheets. The cock he had chosen for Regula to wear is thick, and glass less yielding than any flesh; it will require of him more concentration to relax his thighs and his back thoroughly enough that he might take it.

When Regula shifts forward on his knees his balance must lurch; he throws out his hand to steady himself, his fingers spread and smearing oil across the expanse of Varis’ back. “Are you well?” Varis asks.

“Perhaps too little time spent on my knees of late,” Regula answers, and Varis’ shoulders betray his laugh. Since the medicus forbid them have relations, he has done little else but spend in Regula’s mouth, at his love’s own request—meanwhile Varis had raised the possibility Regula might service him with the toy they procured now more than a year ago, commissioned to Varis’ specification yet forgotten before it had arrived in favor of filling Regula’s womb.

Regula had oiled his cock generously, and having pressed inside yet more Varis imagines it must be near to how Regula feels, when his need is so great he has made a mess of his thighs before Varis may even part them. He widens his knees as Regula takes up his place behind him, lowering himself to spare Regula’s hips what strain he could. Regula’s hand slides from the small of Varis’ back to his hip, aligning himself with a hesitation Varis recognizes as the very same he had felt when first he had taken Regula, before they knew how exactly they might fit together with Varis between his thighs.

“I would take you into me,” Varis says so that there may be no doubt as to his desire, and Regula moans for him; he presses forward, slipping only once on the oil.

Even so bid Regula enters him so slowly as to feel nearly tentative, and despite the command Varis does not wish it any harder: he has not been taken since van Bælsar, and that now some years ago. He was hardly so careful (nor, having been fucked by him, does Varis think him capable of such should he have stipulated it in his request); after each unsteady press too gentle to be called a thrust Regula allows Varis pause to draw breath and will his body open, consideration borne of a man who knew what it was to willingly make himself vulnerable enough to be penetrated.

Regula steadies as Varis accepts more of his cock’s length, beginning to rock his own weight into the thrusts; a low sound escapes his throat when Regula takes him to the hilt, and lets the weight of Varis’ own child onto his back. He grew heavy for only his sixth month, fuller by far than he might make Varis—for all that he felt full, stretched to discomfort if not truly pain, held open by a cock so much smaller than his own.

Receiving (and desiring) no stimulation of his own, Regula’s voice is measured, even practiced, when he asks, “Would you rather take yourself in hand, or shall I?”

“_Please_.”

Regula adjusts his weight, jarring the angle of the glass deep inside, and the head of it pushes insistent against something Varis cannot name but makes him grunt with sensation not yet recognizable as _pleasure_. He does not shift again, and Varis does not ask him to, as he bends forward near as he can at the waist. He is unable to lay across Varis’ back, covering him as Regula so likes to be covered, but enough that he may take Varis’ cock in his grasp.

In the years since the summer they were thirteen and fifteen Regula’s hand has come to feel as natural upon him as his own, and Regula strokes him back to hardness as he rocks his hips only gently, slowly, taking Varis as best he can with the weight of his child, _their_ child, bearing down between his hips. Regula cannot feel him except underneath his hand when Varis’ muscles tense in his back near to climax, and so he does not stop: Varis being fucked through it, spilling into Regula’s hand, ruining the sheets beneath him.

Regula holds him for a moment longer before he leans back, his cock slipping from Varis’ body on what remains of the oil, and he sprawls onto his back with a sigh of relief. The pace of his breath is near a match to Varis’ own when Varis lies beside him, pulling Varis’ hand to his belly; he threads his fingers through Varis’ hair and breathes into his ear in his roughened voice, _“Σοὶ ἅδηκα, ὦ φάος;”_

Varis murmurs his name, and _yes_, before taking his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> this is [Regula’s model without the skirt](https://drive.google.com/open?id=1zbhvd4D0F81gpv6WRd41nQU1xnWwp1NN)


End file.
